


Man of Colors

by fyrbyrd



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, M/M, Prostitution, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyrbyrd/pseuds/fyrbyrd
Summary: Face goes on a journey to find a friend's grave after 10 years.
Relationships: H. M. "Howling Mad" Murdock/Original Male Character(s), H. M. "Howling Mad" Murdock/Templeton "Faceman" Peck
Kudos: 2





	Man of Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Influenced by a movies from the same era, Kiss if the Spider Woman.

Face sat alone in his plush apartment staring at a photograph which sat on the mantle above the open fireplace. He took another sip of his drink and smiled. He could not help smiling, the picture always had a way of making him smile, of cheering him up.

"Oh Murdock, I miss you still," he muttered, "You know it's been ten years... and you haven't aged at all. I'm glad. You'll always be the same to me."

He put down his drink and picked up the airline tickets. Tickets to Baraque. He had not been there in ten years, but he felt he had to go there one last time. After all it was safe now, there was a different Government there. And he was no longer a mercenary, no longer connected to Stockwell. He was a free man returning only to mourn a friend. A friend who had died ten years ago...

Murdock smiled at him, "Found them. Come on, let's get out of here. The Colonel may be a good actor, but even he can't keep his audience entertained for this many hours."

Face nodded, "I'm going to need a holiday after this one. I hope the Colonel can arrange that with Stockwell, we've really earned it."

"Not yet, first we've got to get these plans to him, then we can have that holiday."

They hurried out of the vault they had just ransacked for the plans. Face locked it and they slipped back into their guard characters to stroll out of the building. They did not attract any attention as they walked to the jeep they had left waiting, but even as they pulled out, they saw the President's limo driving up. They gave each other a quick glance and yet kept their cool while they drove on. They didn't look back, knowing that the President was heading to the vault they had just left.

They continued to drive carefully until they reached the city limits, only then did Face put his foot on the accelerator. The Colonel had brought them time, but only just, now they knew they would have to take risks, if they were caught...

"Oh shit," muttered Murdock as they sped on.

Face looked into the mirror, they were being followed. Another jeep filled with armed guards was fast catching them. He floored it to try and stay ahead, there were only fifteen more miles to the border.

Murdock pulled out one of their guns and turned around to fire off a few rounds at their pursuers. He was answered by returning shots and a grenade was tossed at them, as Face tried to keep them ahead.

He stopped briefly when he saw one of them raise a rocket launcher. He looked at Face, knowing they were in trouble. If the man's aim was true... He fired again and watched as a rocket was launched at them.

It overshot them exploding right in front of the jeep. It took everything Face had just to keep the jeep on the road. They had been lucky.

Then suddenly their luck ran out. The next rocket found its aim and the jeep took flight, running end over end and exploding when it finally came to a stop.

Face hurt like hell when he finally came to. He had been thrown out of the jeep and wound up in a ditch. He could smell the fire still blazing and heard voices. He managed to slip over onto his stomach and raise his head to look about. He was some distance behind the twisted wreckage of the jeep and he could see the pursuit jeep pulled up behind it and its occupants inspecting it.

"Where's the other one, the driver?" he heard one of them say.

"No sign, he could have been in that."

The first nodded as he looked at the jeep.

Through the milling men, Face saw a body on the ground. 

One man was standing near it, not looking too concerned. Yet that image burned itself into his mind. The body blackened and bloodstained, Murdock's body. He closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

"Face, Face, wake up!"

He opened his eyes and found himself looking into Frankie's eyes.

"Oh good, you're alive," sighed Frankie, "Colonel, he's alive."

Hannibal came over from the wrecked jeep. "We've got to get out of here, they might come back."

He and Frankie picked Face up. Face tried to see, but the body wasn't there.

"Murdock..." he whispered.

No one answered him and he was put into the back of a truck. Frankie gave him some water as the truck began to move out.

"Murdock..." he muttered again.

Frankie wiped his brow, "It's okay, Face, we'll be safe soon."

But he turned away. The image returned in his mind, and a tear escaped his eye.

They crossed the border and headed home.

On board Stockwell's jet, Face caught hold of the Colonel's arm.

"Did you find him?" he asked.

"No Face. They did. We saw when they passed us on the road."

Face let go. He stared at the ceiling, a hand felt something under his shirt, he felt inside and pulled out the plans that Murdock had given him. He let them drop to the floor, he didn't care how valuable they were. He only cared about the price that had been paid for them.

But that was nearly ten years ago and he was going back. He had to go back to that place, fifteen miles from the border.

It had changed a lot in that time. There were more trees and the road had been tarred and widened. Yet the tree he had used as a marker was still there, a bit bigger, but it was the same tree. He pulled the car up and got out and stood there staring at the ground. His mind restoring that one horrible memory.

No one had ever asked about the body, he suddenly realized. This place was in his memory because it had been the last place he had seen him. But the Colonel had told him that their pursuers had taken it with them. Then where did it end up? Where was Murdock buried? He had the urge to find out, he had to know. He had to find that place.

He got into the car and drove back towards the city. There had to be some records somewhere. But where? Things had changed in ten years. Who would know?

He had to start somewhere so he went to the library. Surely there would have been a news story for something like that, which had involved the President, there had to be a story.

They took him to the morgue of the library and showed him where to find the paper for that year. He would have to go through them himself. They had not been put on microfilm, the people could not afford that luxury.

He found the right month and then the right day, thankful that the papers were in English. Then slowly he began to search. It had not made the front page. But he found it in the end.

He read it very carefully. It described the President's anger that spies had gotten into his personal vault and stolen important secret Government documents. That two men disguised as guards had done the deed. The pursuit and the capture...

Capture!

His heart skipped a beat. He re-read it.

"The jeep was hit by a rocket and brought to a halt. Only one of the spies was found, thrown from the jeep. The other was presumed incinerated in the destroyed vehicle. Though the man was badly injured and thought dead by the guards, he was taken to hospital and kept under strict guard'... Oh my God."

He got up from his seat shaking. Murdock had been alive! And they had left him behind!

Once he got the sick feeling out of his throat, he returned to the newspapers. He had to find out what had happened.

There was nothing for days afterwards, so he kept going forward. Carefully checking each page, just in case. It was taking too much time and he heard the clock strike four, the place would be closing in half an hour, but he had to keep looking with care.

A little more than a month after the first report he found another. It began with a headline, 'AMERICAN SPY TO GO TO TRIAL.' He read how Murdock was recovering from the wounds he received from the jeep accident and that he had been transferred to a prison infirmary. How the trial date had been set and that he was expected to be found guilty. The penalty for his crimes would be death.

Face heard the warning bell. The library was about to close. He left the page open where it was and stood. He still found it hard coming to terms with the fact that Murdock had been alive. They had all believed...

He went back to his hotel room and sat there alone. He tried to put himself in Murdock's place, but he soon gave up, it hurt too much. They had deserted him, but how was he to know that they believed he was dead. No one had been informed. No officials knew of his being alive, but then it had been one of Stockwell's operations.

A horrible thought struck him. What if Stockwell did know? What if he had learned and did nothing about it? Stockwell and Murdock had never gotten along. What if he had let Murdock remain there to face the consequences alone, out of some kind of revenge?

But nothing could change it all now. It was ten years in the past. And besides, Stockwell no longer existed.

Face returned to the library the next day, but he didn't find anything more. There was no coverage of the trial, no notice of execution. Nothing. He went back to the story and took note of the name of the prison. They would have records there, they would have to know what had happened to Murdock.

He found the warden very co-operative. The man did not mind his looking into the records. He had only been there three years, so he knew nothing about it. Face was led into a tiny room filled to overflowing with records and it took a while to find the year he wanted.

And many hours later, he found what he was looking for. It had no name on it, just a heading saying, 'American Spy.'

He opened it up and read the few pages it contained inside it. As he was doing so the warden came in, bringing him a cup of coffee. He was interested in hearing it too.

Face had already explained why he was searching. He handed the file he had read to the man.

"So he was tried and found guilty. Sentenced to death by hanging. Umm. There's no record here of the sentence being carried out. There should be unless of course, it did not happen."

"How do you mean?"

"Well. I've heard stories of prisoners being forgotten about in those days. Especially with so much happening. There was a civil war in the following year. No, if he had been executed here, it would be in the file. Let's see, there is one guard named here, he's still alive. I think you should see him. He might be able to tell you what happened to your friend."

The warden gave Face the name of the guard who had retired but still lived in the city. Face thanked the man for his help and headed off to find the guard. Though it depressed him to learn more and more about Murdock he could not give up until he knew the whole story and could put it all to rest.

"Oh, yes señor. I remember the American. He was in maximum security. Yes, it's hard to forget that one." The old guard told him as they sat together in his kitchen. "Yes, he came to that section after the trial, poor fellow. Not quite right in the head, I remember. Used to talk a lot. Talk too much sometimes, yes, poor fellow."

"Please, tell me about his time there, I must know."

The guard looked at him strangely and then shrugged, "Okay Señor. If you want to know everything... We used to get all the political prisoners in those days. Anyone the President didn't trust wound up there. Then your friend came. He was big news there for a while. An American spy caught by us, now that was big. We all expected there'd be more Americans around to try and get him out. I suppose it was a bit of a disappointment when no one came.

"He was kept in a cell by himself then. Just sat there, all sad. Sometimes it looked like he didn't know where he was. He knew he had been sentenced to death and it was just a matter of time. But the order didn't come. Then more prisoners kept coming in and we had to put him in a two man cell.

"Yes, let me see. They put him in with Antonio, he was well known. Some relative of the President that the big man didn't like, so he locked him up. They became friends, yes. Yes, they were together a long time."

"How long?"

"Ah, let me see... Two years, I think."

"Two years!" Face was stunned. "What happened, I mean, how come he was there that long."

"I don't know, señor. I only know it was two years, it might have been longer. I had to join the army, so I don't know. When I went back to my job, he was gone."

"But the records at the prison, there's nothing. I've got to find out what happened to him. I've just got to."

"Well, Señor, about the only person who'd know would be Antonio."

"Antonio, his cell mate."

"Yes, Señor. He is quite prominent now. A senator, I believe."

Face thanked the old man and somehow he made it back to his hotel. Murdock had lived in that prison for two years! The story seemed to be getting worse. And now he had to find someone who could tell him about those two years and maybe more.

"Mr. Peck. I am Antonio Dias. You wished to see me about something very important?" the well dressed man said shaking his hand as he entered his office.

"Yes, I need to ask you about a friend of mine. You knew him about ten years ago. His name was Murdock."

Face saw the man's face change completely to an expression of sadness.

"I would rather forget those years, Mr. Peck. That was not a good time and I was imprisoned simply because my Uncle did not like me. He was a cruel President who suppressed our people for so long."

"I'm sorry, but I only want to know about Murdock. I came here to mourn him. I thought he had died ten years ago. I was in the jeep with him, I thought he was dead. Now I have learned that he survived and for two years at least he was alive in prison, and you shared a cell with him."

"You are... Faceman. Yes, he talked about you. I should have recognized your name, but then it has been a long time and as I said I would rather forget... Still I feel like I know you. He told me all about you."

That made Face feel uncomfortable.

"He was always hoping that you and the others would come back for him. Well, that's not exactly true, he hoped the others would come back, he thought you were dead."

Face closed his eyes.

"But he always spoke of you as if you were alive. He brought you to life too. Those years were never dull I can tell you that. Once he started talking, it was hard to make him stop. I know his life story. And I still remember his other stories. He was always making up something new. He said it kept him sane... He often said he didn't know why he tried to stay sane, he didn't really care because he knew he was to be hanged. But they never came to do it and that made him sad. He wasn't afraid of dying. And as I said, he thought you were dead and you were... he said you were the only person he really loved. Life wasn't worth living without you..."

Face looked up at Antonio, the man was rubbing his eyes.

"My Uncle had a lot of influence and I wasn't treated very well in that place. I was beaten and it was Murdock who helped me afterwards. No one else seemed to care. I think I gave him a reason to go on living while he had the chance. Otherwise... Well anyway, we became friends and he told me his stories and he looked after me when they beat me... I t was longer than two years actually. It was twenty-nine months, he counted it that way. But in the twenty-ninth month they took him away. The prison was getting too crowded, so they just picked some prisoners to be moved, he was one of them. I never saw him again... They took them all to the Elvina Prison, it's just outside the city. You might learn something there."

"May I ask you when you got out?"

"I spent thirty-eight months there, three years. Then my Uncle was killed and the war ended, and all his prisoners were released."

"Thank you. It has helped."

"Mr Peck. He believed you were dead, just as you believed he was dead... Things happen when you are locked up... things change... I've been able to put it all behind me, I have a family now. But..."

Face saw that Antonio was struggling, "I understand, please, you don't have to explain."

Antonio nodded and bowed his head. "If you could, will you let me knew what you find. I would like to know."

"Sure," said Face. "Thank you. Goodbye."

That night as he sat in his bed in the hotel room, his mind wandered. He could imagine Murdock laying beside him as he had many times before. He had to admit a pang of jealousy. He was jealous of Antonio. He had those twenty-nine months with Murdock. And he had had Murdock too!

But now there were seven years to be accounted for. And that would begin at Elvina Prison.

"Oh yes, he was here. Let's see," the warden opened up a file. "Sent here from State Prison, because of overcrowding. Um, not here, too close to cell mate. So that's where the reputation came from."

"Reputation?"

The warden smiled an ugly grin, "Well things get around in prison. Especially that kind of thing. Shared a cell with a man that's still here, that's interesting."

"How long was he here?"

"Ah, two years."

"Two more years," muttered Face.

"What?"

"Oh nothing. What happened after that?"

"Ah, transferred to Venata Prison, that's down the coast."

"Is there any chance I can talk to this man who knew him?"

"Toro? I suppose so. But he's not a nice fellow. Murderer. Why do you want to do such a thing?"

"I want to find out how my friend was when he was here."

The warden shrugged, "It's up to you. But I warn you, Toro's a great liar. You can't believe everything he says."

Toro was a burly bald man and he sat down across the screened visitors area from Face.

"Who are you? Don't know you. Why you wanna see me? This ain't no zoo."

"I want to ask you about Murdock."

The man smiled, "The crazy one. What about him?"

"He was a friend of mine. We lost contact ten years ago. I never knew he had been in prison."

Toro frowned, "What you want to know? He was crazy, talked a lot. What else you wanna know?"

He wasn't getting anywhere so he threw it in, "His reputation?"

Toro smiled, "Okay, he was easy, after a while. That's what you wanted to know. We ain't got women here, those that are willing will do, even some who ain't. He had been someone's lay in the other prison, so he got laid here too. You want the details. I could fill you in, I got to have him whenever I wanted."

Face got up to leave.

"Shocks you huh, well it happens..."

The door clanged behind him and he felt sick. He wanted to give up. But the time had been cut down to five years. And he had another prison to go to find out where he went.

He drove down to Venata and straight to the prison. It was an ominous place, with walls four stories high, it looked positively medieval. And his request to see the warden was turned down. He would have to come back and try again.

He found a hotel room and found that he could see the prison from it. He remembered what Toro had told him about what had happened in the prison. The place looked far worse and Murdock had already endured five years...

He found himself regretting the decision to come there. Over the ten years he had lived on many wonderful memories they had shared together. He had survived on them. It was tearing him apart to know Murdock had lived through five years of hell. And he believed that he was dead too. They had both believed each other was dead, only Murdock had suffered physically as well as mentally.

It took a few days just to get an appointment with the warden. His first steps into the place chilled him. The gigantic gates clanged like a death bell, so thick and heavy were they. He was flanked by two heavily armed guards who led him into a caged walkway up to the warden's office high above the grounds.

The place stank like a sewer and he was surprised by many things there. The place looked like a miny town, there was actually a market on the ground. Men selling fruit, vegetables, jewelry and clothes and others milling around buying and bargaining. Those around the clothes and jewelry stall were dressed like women, but Face could see that they were men, and there were others around them, buying things for them or just trying to get them to come away from the crowd.

The warden's office did not fit the place either. It suited any executive's office in New York, so expensive were the fittings. The warden himself wore expensive clothes too. Face was searched before he was allowed in.

"You are the American who's been trying to get in here for days?" he said without rising.

"I suppose I am."

"I've heard about you. You are after information about a certain prisoner named Murdock, imprisoned in this country ten years ago... ten years today I believe."

Face nodded.

"Yes, my friend at Elvina told me about you. Why must you persist on this search of yours? Why don't you just go home and mourn for him as you have?"

"He was my friend. I have to know what happened to him, I cannot mourn for him now, not until I know for sure that he is dead. Until I see his grave."

"Then I must disappoint you. You will find no grave here."

"I am still determined to learn all I can."

"Very well, if you must. I know all about your friend... He did come here five years ago. I asked for him to be sent here. Oh, I surprise you, yes I saw him at Elvina, I knew he was a man who had no idea what the future would hold. In fact no one knew why he had been imprisoned, nor for how long then. So he was virtually a non entity that no one cared about. But when I saw him at Elvina, I saw potential there, so I sent for him and got him.

"He told me his story himself, right here in this very room. He wanted to know why his death sentence had never been carried out. I told him it had been changed to life instead. He merely shrugged at that, he didn't care whether he lived or died... What was this man to you anyway?"

"He was my closest friend."

The warden eyed him, seeming to consider what he would say next.

"What kind of man was he?"

Face was confused. Why did he want to know that? "He was a good man. Kind, slightly crazy, loyal, helpful, I don't know, why?"

"You cared about him a great deal?"

"Yes, but what --"

"The man that came here five years ago, was a broken, sad, crazy man. He had nothing to live for. Five years in prison can change a person. He came to accept that he would never see the outside of a prison, nor do I believe would he want to. I told him why I had brought him here, because I had a reason, he didn't like it at first, but he later accepted the deal I made with him. They gave him a name you know, the other prisoners, they call him the Man of Colors. He was known as that everywhere here."

Face had felt a strange feeling inside of him, the way the man talked... "Man of Colors?"

The warden smiled, "Yes, that's what they called him. Come, I must show you my place here, then maybe you will understand."

Face got up, but he was still confused and the feeling he felt was nagging at him.

He followed the warden out and they were joined by four heavily armed guards. The warden walked ahead and did not say a word. They went down to the ground level, into the market area, prisoners made way for him, as if he were a king and the place was his kingdom.

"I allow this because most of my prisoners are here for the rest of their lives, they will not see the outside of this place and yet they are to live too. There is not much here for them to do, not while the country is still trying to get on its feet after the war. It is like a small city here, a city of men who have no freedom. No one wants them loose amongst the people, so they have their own society here. What's the use in trying to reform them when they will never leave here? So they have their market and their groups and the queers give them what they miss in women. It works fine. I have very few killings here. I have very little trouble here, but I am the ultimate authority."

Face followed and saw how he was being eyed by the men there. And he also saw the type of community into which Murdock had lived. They went up to the next level where men looked upon the warden with anger on their faces, but the guards and their guns held their anger back.

"These have not integrated yet, they have not accepted their world."

They moved up to the third level where the cells were singular. Face saw the inside of one, they were two man cells, but these were covered, the prisoners would not see much of outside world.

"And those are special cells. I get some who come here for short periods. They stay here and nowhere else."

Then he stopped in front of one, "I brought you here for a reason. I do not wish to tell you about your friend. But the man within this cell can. I will give you some time with him, he will tell you the story. I will send guards for you later. If you wish to leave just call the guards. Is this what you wish?"

Face wanted to know, so he nodded.

One of the guards opened the door.

"I will not see you again, so I will say goodbye now," said the warden who turned abruptly and left.

Face stepped into the cell and the door was closed behind him.

There were two bunks in the cell and a lot of clutter. Clothes hung from a line strung across the room, most of which were brightly colored and like those worn down in the market. On wooden boxes, there were supplies of food in tins and packets and on the floor was a faded mat. One bunk was covered in curtains. Yet through the curtains, Face could see that someone was laying on the bed. A man with long brown hair tied in a pony tail with a scarf over the top of his head. But that was all he could see apart from the fact that the man was listening to a walkman.

He made a loud noise to make himself be heard and he was, the man stirred and turned over, then opened the curtain.

Blue eyes met brown and the shock was too great. Face fainted.

He woke up to a gentle slapping on his face and he sat up staring unable to speak. He was handed a cup of water.

"Don't say I thought you were dead. It's been a shock for me too. What the hell are you doing here now, Face? What's it been, ten years? I don't need this happening now."

Face gulped down the water and then stood, feeling awkward. Nothing had really prepared him for this.

"Murdock, oh God. I never thought I'd find you..." he stopped.

"I wish you hadn't tried. Damn that man. No wonder he's been looking worried lately."

Murdock had sat down on his bunk and reached for a cigarette which he lit up with a slight shake in his hands. "This is their way of punishing me, I suppose. So you've found me, past catching up with me now. Go home, go back to believing I died ten years ago, because I did. All you've seen is a ghost. Go home."

Face couldn't believe his eyes. Murdock smoking a cigarette, his hair or what was left of it, one long pony tail, his face... he was wearing make-up. He had bracelets on, had shaved all the hair off his legs.

"Don't look at me like that! Call the guards and go home. Forget you ever came here."

"I can't..."

"I can't," mimicked Murdock, "You're not a prisoner here, that's plain to see."

"Murdock don't. That's not fair... When he brought me here, I wasn't expecting to find you. I thought I'd be speaking to someone who knew you. Someone who'd tell me what happened to you..."

"So you found out I survived and you've been nosing into my past. What do you know so far, huh? That I was sentenced to death, accused of being a spy. You're ten years too late to do anything," he stamped out the cigarette, "I'm stuck here, this is my home. This is where I'll die one day, alone. Why did you come back anyway? Nostalgia perhaps. You wanted to remember an old lover? Well remember him as he was, he doesn't exist anymore."

Murdock never looked at him the whole time, he just stared at the wall ahead of him.

Face sat down on the other bunk closed his eyes to the tears that were forming. "We all believed you were dead. We had to get out of there fast... for ten years I lived with the image of your body there on the road, all covered in blood, unmoving. Nothing was ever the same after that... Stockwell's dead. We got our freedom not long after we left here. Stockwell had to let us go... Hannibal... Hannibal's gone too... He took one risk too many. B.A. went home, opened up a machine shop. I lost contact with him... So the team died a long time ago, I had to come back. I had to put that memory to rest. I had to come back and say farewell to... I never loved anyone after you. I still love you."

"You still love a person named Murdock. He died a long time ago, maybe not on that road, but he died."

"Then who are you? I know everything that happened up until here. I came here to get the rest of it. The warden brought me here, so I want to know the rest."

Murdock turned and looked at him.

"Tell me about the Man of Colors."

Murdock closed his eyes. "Five years ago I was transferred here from Elvina. I was hoping... At first I thought it might all be coming to an end. Everyone knew this place was a final place. You either came to live out your life or you came to die. I wanted it to be the latter, but that wasn't to be. That bastard upstairs, he had me transferred here, he wanted to use me. He told me I would be here for the rest of my life and there was no changing that. That I would have no chance to try and take my own life either, so I had to survive as best I could. So he gave me a choice. I could have an easy comfortable time or I could go back to the same sort of thing as at Elvina, only worse 'coz he'd make sure that I'd be hurt enough... that all I'd know was pain. I thought I had gotten used to pain so I refused.

"He sent me to the second level, there must have been thirty in there. They all... I was raped and beaten. I thought I would never walk again and I got really sick.

"He made the offer again. I didn't want to go through it all again like he threatened, so I accepted..."

Murdock became quiet for a long time.

"That's when I got the name. They called me the Man of Colors... Yellow because they thought me a coward. I suppose I was. Red, for the blood I would carry on my hands. Blue because I would never know happiness. Green because they got envious of what I got in return for what I did. Black because of what I did. Other colors, other meanings. A man of colors... They'd put men in here with me, always these men had something to hide. I got them to tell me, to trust me. Then I betrayed them to the warden, I got their blood on my hands, I can never wash it off. And most of them had loved me too... I've had many lovers... over years. So I am the Man of Colors, betrayer of men to save my own hide, not from my own death, just from pain."

Face saw the black tears running down Murdock's face.

"So, now you know. Go home, Face. Remember only the past, the good times. I'm not that person anymore and I don't deserve your pity. There's nothing you can do about it. I'll remember for a few days, then I'll block it all out."

Murdock picked up another cigarette and Face saw the shaking was worse as he tried to light it.

"I can't leave you here."

"You can! You will. Forget me, forget all you've learned." He got up and went to the door calling the guard.

The door opened, "I haven't been down in days, I've earned it. Take him out. He doesn't belong here."

Murdock didn't look back as he walked out. Face followed a short time later and looked down. Murdock had reached the bottom and a few men were already approaching him, all of them looking sympathetic as if they cared. One of them took Murdock into his arms and led him away. Face saw the man kiss him as they disappeared into an open cell.

He sat in the hotel room wondering what to do. His eyes stayed on the prison the whole time. Murdock might have tried to convince him to leave, but he couldn't. He had found the one person he loved in the whole world was still alive and he could not let go. He knew everything Murdock had told him was true. But he was alive!

Murdock had returned to his cell. Fresh tears fell from his eyes and he felt sick. He had been so cruel that day. So cruel to Face. He found he still loved Face, he had always loved him. But they could not be together. Not now. He lay on his bed and grimaced at the slight pain. In his cruelty towards Face, he had let several men take him that day, one of them had been very rough and it still hurt a little. But he wanted to hurt. He felt guilty. He wanted to wash the blood off his hands. He wanted to be with Face.

The warden had sent for him. It was not usual. It usually meant a new man was coming in, one that he would betray to save himself. Though on the trip up, he determined to refuse. A whole month had passed since the visitor had come. A whole empty month of thinking about what he had become.

He stepped through the door and the warden looked at him. He held out an envelope.

"What's this?" asked Murdock taking it.

"A pardon."

"What!"

"You have been pardoned by the President, get your stuff together, you get out today."

"Out? How? Where?"

"Just get out, you're useless to me now. I knew that if I asked you to work again, you'd refuse. I know what you've been up to this past month. I've been told that you've been taking risks below... Your lover arranged it all. Got some senator to help him get you out."

"Lover?"

"Your American lover. Your visitor. I could see he wasn't going to give up. He got Antonio Dias to help him."

"Dias!" Murdock felt wobbly.

"Go on, get out," ordered the warden, "Escort him to the gates once he has his stuff," he continued to the guard.

Murdock walked slowly clutching the opened envelope. He couldn't believe it. He was to be free!

He packed up all his things, unable to part with anything. Then taking one last look, walked out. The guard closed the door and led him down the walkway.

On the ground there was a stir. They saw that he was leaving, the grapevine told of his pardon. Some yelled obscenities at him, others shouted farewells and love calls. But he didn't hear any of it.

At last he arrived at the gates. The barrier he thought he would never pass again. But even they opened for him. And there was someone on the other side, waiting.

The guard motioned him out and he took a step forward, then another, his eyes locked outside. He didn't stop until the gates clanged their knell behind him. Until he stood before the blue eyes.

"I couldn't go without you. I couldn't leave you again. I love you."

Murdock dropped his belongings and fell into Face's arms and cried. "I've always loved you."

They said no more and Face helped him carry his bags back to the hotel. They needed no words as they reached the room. They closed the door, locked it and kissed.

They stripped each other and made it to the bed, eager hands reacquainted themselves. Face's mouth found where it wanted to be, then Murdock let Face take him and he enjoyed the love he received. He loved the feeling of having someone he really loved inside him again. He never wanted it to end, but climax was inevitable.

Then they faced each other and Face pulled him close, kissed him deeply. Then he caressed the long hair.

"We can't change the past, Face."

"I know. I don't care. We can be together now. We can go home and stay together, forever."

"What will we do?"

"Nothing. Nothing but make love. We're retired and I've got everything I need."

"Are you sure?" 

"Murdock, shut up. I've got you back, I'm never going to let you go again."

Murdock's hand began to stroke him again, with instant results. "Then don't. Love me, Face. Make love to me again. I need you inside me. I want only you inside me. I've only ever wanted you inside me."

"Then that's all you'll ever get," smiled Face.

Murdock parted his legs and moved into a position where Face could enter him while they faced each other. And Face loved him.

The next day they left the country and went home to L.A. And Face kept his promise.

The Man of Colors was dead, but Murdock never cut his hair, he left it long to remind him, because he could never wash the blood off his hands, never change the ten years they had spent apart.

But they were never parted again. When death did claim Murdock, Face was there too.


End file.
